


Future Perfect

by StBridget



Series: Guardian [4]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Mpreg, Winged!Jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-09-21 06:05:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9535040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StBridget/pseuds/StBridget
Summary: Jack's acting odd, even for him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> MacGyver is property of CBS and its creators.
> 
> I was going to do the first chapter as a standalone, but decided to roll it up into this fic. This is going to be pretty fluffy with just a little angst for dramatic purposes. I'm open for another take, though (see notes at bottom).

The other side of the bed was empty when Mac woke up, only a small pile of feathers marking where his lover had been.  That was unusual on both counts.  Jack wasn’t a morning person, and his feathers didn’t usually shed, or whatever feathers did.  Generally, the Guardian’s wings were pretty low maintenance.  Not lately, though.  It seemed like Mac was grooming them every other day, instead of once a week like usual (and even that was more often than they needed to be—Mac and Jack just liked the sensations and the intimacy of preening), and there were still feathers everywhere.

Mac followed the trail of feathers to the kitchen where Jack was standing at the counter assembling a sandwich, wings spread out, feathers accumulating at his feet.  Jack seemed to be keeping them out more lately.  Usually, they were out at night, flaring out for Mac to tug on while they made love and cocooning him and making him feel more loved than he ever had while he slept, but Jack usually kept them hidden around the house, even though Bozer knew about them now, and even when it was just Jack and Mac.  Jack said they bothered him even when they were incorporeal and keeping them spread helped.

Mac grabbed a broom and swept the feathers into a pile, more floating down even as he worked.  “Dude, Bozer’s going to kill you if he finds out you got feathers in his kitchen—again.”

“Sorry,” Jack said around a mouthful of sandwich.  “I was hungry.”  Jack seemed to be hungry alot lately, and his food choices, in Mac’s opinion, left a lot to be desired.  Jack wasn’t picky at the best of times, but now. . .

“What is that?” Mac asked.  “It looks disgusting.”

Jack swallowed, condiments dripping out of his mouth.  “Liverwurst, pickle loaf, bacon, and baloney.”  He held it out to Mac.  “Want some?”

Mac backed away, hands up to shield him from what he was pretty sure was a toxic concoction.  “Thanks, I’ll pass.  Forget the feathers—Bozer’s going to kill you if he finds processed lunchmeat in the fridge.”

“It’s okay, I ate it all,” Jack said.

Mac couldn’t help the face he made.  “I don’t know how you can stand that.”  He tugged a loose feather from Jack’s right wing.  “Finish that and let’s see what we can do with those wings.”

Jack put down his sandwich and put his arms around Mac, drawing the younger man flush with him.  “Only if we can do other things after that.  You know what your preening does to me.”

Mac put his hand on Jack’s chest and shoved, putting a couple of inches between them.  “Down, boy.  We still have to go to work, which means showering and getting dressed.  We don’t have time for sex.”

Jack pulled him close again and ground their hips together.  The older man was already hard, and Mac could feel himself stirring in response.  “We can have sex while we shower,” Jack suggested.

Mac pulled away again.  “Weren’t the three times last night enough for you?”

“I can never get enough of you, Mac.”

Mac chuckled.  “You’re insatiable.”  It was true—Jack always had a healthy libido, but it seemed to have skyrocketed lately.  Maybe it was related to the increased appetite.  Mac’s musings were interrupted as Jack began to kiss along his jaw and down his neck.  “Okay, fine,” Mac relented.  “We can have sex in the shower.”  Jack’s face lit up.  “We are going to do something about those wings first.”

Jack followed Mac back to the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, Mac slotting in behind him.  Mac did an initial run of his hands through Jack’s wings, amazed at how many feathers came away.  He could see bald spots forming.  “Are you always this bad when you shed?”

“Molt, Mac.  Wings molt.  Don’t you know that?”

“Sorry,” Mac apologized.  “I’m better with airplane wings than with bird wings.  Guardian wings.  Whatever.  You didn’t answer my question.  Are they always this bad?”

“No,” Jack said.  “In fact, I shouldn’t even be molting for another few months.”

Mac wondered briefly if something was wrong, but other than the wings, Jack didn’t seem sick.  Just hungry and horny—well, more so than usual.  Mac put the thought aside and concentrated on Jack’s wings.  The blond did the best he could with the loose feathers and pressed his thumbs to the uropygial glands.  Nothing came out.  Mac prodded a little, but only came up with a bit of almost solid oil.  Come to think of it, it had been thicker than usual.  Maybe because they were using so much of it trying to keep Jack’s wings in shape?

“What’s wrong?”  Jack asked.

“You’re glands are dry.”

“Hunh.  That’s never happened before.  Maybe you can use baby oil or something.”

“Got something better.”  Mac reached into the drawer of the bedside table and pulled out a small jar, twisting the cap off.  A familiar scent assailed Jack’s nose.

“Dude, did you milk my glands or something?”

“Actually, I synthesized it.”  It was easy to forget the kid was a chemistry genius as well as a mechanical genius, and his workshop held a lab-grade chemistry set.

“Why?  In case we run out?”

Mac blushed.  “Because you’re not always here, and I. . .um. . .” he trailed off, embarrassed.

“Whoa, TMI,” Jack said.  “Forget I asked.  Does it work?”

“Like a charm.”  Mac rubbed the oil on, and Jack sighed in contentment.  Damn, that felt good.

When Mac had finished, Jack turned around and pounced, pushing Mac onto his back and crawling over him, lips finding the blond’s, hands going everywhere they could reach.

Mac laughed and shoved at him.  “I said in the shower.”

Jack didn’t respond, just scooped Mac up in his arms and carried him to the shower, never breaking the kiss.  He stripped Mac in short order and had them both under the spray.  He worked his way down Mac’s body until he reached the younger man’s cock, engulfing it in one quick movement.  Mac tangled a hand in Jack’s hair, just holding him there, and let himself get lost in the moment.  Hopefully, Jack’s libido would calm down soon.  In the meantime, he might as well enjoy it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens.

A week later, Jack was still molting, and Mac was getting worried.  The Guardian’s wings had large bald patches, and Mac wasn’t sure they could hold him if Jack had to fly.  “Does molting usually take this long?” Mac asked.

“No,” Jack said.  “Usually it’s a week, tops.”

“It’s been almost three,” Mac pointed out.

“I know,” Jack replied.  “I’m sure it’ll stop in a day or so.”

“Jack,” Mac said, exasperated, “you’ve been saying that for two weeks.  You need to see somebody about it.”

“Who?” Jack demanded.  “It’s not like I can walk into my doctor’s office and say ‘Hey, Doc, I’ve been molting for three weeks.  Can you help?’”.

“Surely the Guardians have doctors.”

“Yeah, but it’s a pain to see them.”  Mac just glared at him, and Jack relented.  “Okay, fine.  After this mission.”

“Jack,” Mac protested.

“We ship out in the morning,” Jack said.  “I’m not going to be able to get in before then.  I promise, as soon as we get back I’ll make an appointment if it hasn’t stopped.”

“You’ll make an appointment even if it has stopped,” Mac said firmly.  “This isn’t normal.”

Jack heaved a put-upon sigh.  “Fine.”

Jack seemed fine on the mission.  There were still a few stray feathers every once in a while, and Jack complained of his wings itching constantly, but it didn’t get worse.  Mac groomed them at every opportunity, which usually led to Jack jumping him immediately afterwards, and not always in appropriate places.  Riley complained that she was going to puke if she had to listen to them one more time.

Jack’s appetite also hadn’t lessened.  If anything, it was getting worse, and the combinations weren’t getting any better.  On the flight to the mission location, Jack consumed an entire bag of chili cheese Fritos mixed with a whole pound of M&M’s.  Riley gagged at the combination, and Mac couldn’t hide his look of disgust.  Even Jack looked a little green after he ate them and excused himself to the bathroom.  Mac was mildly concerned, but figured eating like that would give anyone an upset stomach, even someone like Jack, who seemed to have a cast-iron stomach.

It was on the way back that Mac got worried.  Jack went from ravenous to barely eating at all overnight, even refusing his favorite snacks (the non-disgusting ones).  He even moved away from Riley and Mac if they were eating, claiming the smell was making him sick.  He did look queasy and pale, and Mac thought he even detected a fine sheen of sweat on Jack’s brow.

Then they hit turbulence.  Jack went from pale to green in two seconds flat.  He gripped the arms of his seat so hard his knuckles were white.  His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed repeatedly as if he were trying to hold back bile.

Mac eyed him, concerned.  Jack didn’t get motion sick.  Ever.  If he did, he never would have made it into Delta Force.  For him to be acting like this signaled that something was seriously wrong.  “Are you okay?” Mac asked.

Jack swallowed several times before answering.  “Yeah, fine,” he finally choked out, voice strained.

Mac opened his mouth to argue, but didn’t get a chance to say anything as Jack abruptly bolted for the bathroom.  Mac debated following him, but he didn’t want to make Jack any more uncomfortable than he already was.  Jack “Manly-man” Dalton didn’t like to admit weakness to anyone, even one of his closest friends and his lover.

After 20 minutes, when Jack hadn’t reappeared, and the sounds of retching were still coming from the bathroom periodically, Mac went after the older man.  He knocked on the door and listened for sounds of distress.  “You okay in there?”

“Uh, yeah.”  There was a pause.  “No, not really,” Jack admitted.

Mac knew it was really bad if Jack was admitting he felt bad.  “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”  Another pause, and the door opened.  Jack was wedged into the tiny space, knees up to his chin, arms wrapped around them.  He was even paler than before and obviously sweating.  He looked absolutely miserable.

Mac knelt down beside his lover, barely able to fit in the cramped quarters.  He put his hand to Jack’s forehead.  No fever.  That was something, at least.  He rubbed Jack’s back soothingly.  “What’s wrong?  And don’t tell me you’re fine.”

Jack leaned his head against Mac’s chest, sighing at the comfort Mac’s warm presence brought.  “I’m nauseous, I’m weak, and the thought of food just makes me want to puke more.  And I’m still molting.”

Mac tenderly smoothed back Jack’s hair.  “It’ll be alright.  The turbulence will be over, and we’ll land soon.  You’ll feel better then.”

Jack didn’t.  He managed to keep what little was left in his stomach down until they got to the house, though Mac could tell it took a lot of effort.  As soon as they were home, Jack made a beeline for the bathroom, and Mac heard the sounds of vomiting, again.

Mac followed and found his lover hunched over the toilet, head resting on the edge.  “You done?”

“I hope so,” Jack said.  “I don’t think I have anything left to throw up.  I think I’m just going to sit here for a while, though, just in case.”

Mac made a sound of agreement.  He filled a glass with water and put toothpaste on Jack’s toothbrush, then handed them both to Jack.  While Jack was brushing and rinsing, Mac wet a washcloth.  He sat down beside the older man and wiped his face with the cloth, erasing all traces of saliva and vomit.  Then he just sat there, holding Jack, the brunet slumped weakly against him.  “Has anything like this ever happened before?” Mac asked.

Jack shook his head, not moving from his position against Mac’s chest.  “No, never.  I’ve never been this bad even when I’ve had the flu.  I wish I knew what was wrong with me.”

“With the horniness and the appetite and the hair—er, feather—loss and the vomiting, if you were a woman, I’d say you were pregnant,” Mac joked, trying to make light of the situation.

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Jack said.  “Seriously, I don’t know what it could be.”

Mac held him tighter.  “Don’t worry, we’ll find out,” he promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never been pregnant, so the timing, severity, and type of symptoms may be off a bit. If so, I apologize. Chalk it up to Jack being a Guardian and/or male. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it. ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack finds out what the problem is.

“I’m _what_?!?” Jack shrieked, incredulous. “You can’t be serious.” He must have heard the doctor wrong. There was no way Jack was. . .

 

“I’m sure,” the doctor said. “You’re pregnant.”

 

“You gotta be wrong, doc,” Jack insisted. “Run some more tests or something.”

 

“I’ve already run every possible test,” the doctor said. “They all said the same thing. You are definitely pregnant.”

 

Jack had to concede the doctor had been thorough. He’d done full blood work, a urine test, even an ultrasound. Speaking of which. . .

 

“Show me the ultrasound,” Jack demanded. That would prove the doc had to be wrong.

 

The doctor complied.  He pointed to a small area in the center of the picture. “That’s your baby.”

 

Jack studied it. It didn’t look like much. Certainly not a baby. The doctor must be mistaken. “Are you sure it’s not just a tumor or something?”

 

Mac chuckled. “I can’t believe you’d rather have a tumor than be pregnant.”

 

“Well, it’s certainly more believable,” Jack said. “Men don’t get pregnant.”

 

“I assure you, you are,” the doctor said for the third time. “I’ll run the ultrasound again, and you can hear the heartbeat.”

 

“You do that,” Jack said.

 

The doctor obediently put more gel on Jack’s stomach and ran the wand on it. A similar picture popped up on the screen, next to the original one. The blob was still there, but it had shifted slightly. The doctor turned up the volume, and a steady thump sounded.

 

Mac was awed. He moved closer to the screen and stared at the blob. “That’s amazing.”

 

Jack was less impressed. “That’s impossible.”

 

Mac motioned at the screen. “You can’t deny that’s a baby in there. It makes sense—the molting, the appetite, the libido, the vomiting. Even the weight gain.”

 

That was the first thing they’d noticed when the exam started. Jack had gained 10 pounds. He’d chalked it up to his recent appetite, but Mac could see now it was all part of the whole.

 

“I still don’t see how it’s possible,” Jack said.

 

“You’re a Guardian,” the doctor said, as though that explained everything. It didn’t.

 

“I read the handbook, doc,” Jack said. “Nowhere did it say anything about male guardians getting pregnant.”

 

The doctor took a seat facing Jack and began to explain. “Being a Guardian is hereditary, right?”

 

Jack nodded. “Right.”

 

Mac was surprised. Jack had never mentioned that. He hadn’t said much about how Guardians were chosen. Mac had never really thought about it. He’d assumed they were recruited, like any job.

 

“You also know it’s not gender specific—it can come from the father or mother and be passed to boys or girls.”

 

“Yeah.” Jack wasn’t quite sure where this was going.

 

“In any case, a Guardian will almost certainly have at least one offspring who is also a Guardian. It ensures the survival of the Guardians.”

 

The doctor wasn’t saying anything Jack didn’t already know. “I know all this.”

 

“Think about it,” the doctor said. “People are less likely to reproduce these days, and same-sex unions are more common. The genes have to be passed on somehow.”

 

“Not all Guardians are born, though,” Jack said. “Some of them are recruited. Can’t they just recruit more?” So Mac had been right about that part.

 

“It doesn’t work that way,” the doctor said. “All Guardians _are_ born; some just aren’t born to Guardian parents. Every once in a while, someone is born with all the potential to be a Guardian, but none of the history. It doesn’t happen that often, and there’s no way to predict it or control it, like when a current Guardian gets pregnant.”

 

Jack frowned. “So, you’re saying I’m pregnant because I’m with Mac, and my genes have to be passed on somehow.”

 

“It’s not that simple,” the doctor said, “but that’s the gist of it.”

 

Jack contemplated that for a minute. “Can all male Guardians get pregnant?”

 

“We don’t know for sure yet. We haven’t been able to isolate a gene or anything that would tell us who can or can’t get pregnant.”

 

“So, what, the Powers That Be just randomly decide certain male Guardians can get pregnant?” Jack was joking, but the doctor answered as though he were serious.

 

“As far as we can tell, yes.”

 

Jack groaned. He really hated the Powers That Be. Who did they think they were to toy with humans like that? Who gave them the power to decide who did and didn’t get pregnant? Who did they think the were? Oh, wait, they were the Powers That Be. That gave them license to do whatever they wanted, at least in their view. Jack just really wished they’d left him alone. “ That’s just great. How am I going to explain it when I start showing?”

 

“Ordinary people won’t be able to see,” the doctor said. “It’ll be like your wings. You’ll have a glamour of sorts that will hide it.”

 

“So, I’m going to have to deal with nine months of molting, and vomiting, and alternating between eating everything in sight and not wanting to eat anything?”

 

“The vomiting and the molting will stop after the first trimester,” the doctor said, “but the food sensitivity will probably continue.”

 

“Fantastic.” Jack looked at Mac to see how he was taking it. The kid had been awfully silent except for his enthusiasm with the ultrasound. Jack had assumed that was Mac’s fascination with all things technological. He was surprised to see Mac grinning. “What are you smiling about?”

 

“We’re going to be parents, Jack,” Mac said. “Isn’t that great?”

 

Jack still wasn’t sold on the idea, and his face must have given it away.

 

“Come on, Jack. Haven’t you always wanted to be a dad?”

 

“I haven’t really given much thought to it,” Jack said. “I always figured it was pretty unlikely, what with my job—both of them.”

 

“You’ll be a fantastic dad,” Mac said. “I’ve seen how you are with Riley. I bet you were great when she was little.”

 

“Yeah, and we all saw how that turned out,” Jack said, bitterly. “She only just stopped hating me.”

 

“You had her best interests at heart,” Mac said. 

 

“I guess.” Jack was silent for a minute. “So, you’re happy about this?”

 

“Aren’t you?”

 

Jack thought about it some more. Slowly, a smile spread across his face until he was grinning as wide as Mac. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I am.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack gets hurt on a mission. Is the baby alright?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and next are the little bit of angst I mentioned. Nothing too heavy, but if you want just fluff, you can probably skip them without too much trouble.

It was supposed to be a simple mission, but, naturally, it went sideways.  Half a dozen thugs got the jump on Mac and Jack, and it turned into a knock-down, drag-out fight.  One of the thugs landed a solid punch to Jack’s abdomen, and the brunet doubled over, breath knocked out of him.

Mac had to tamp down a full-blown panic attack.  All he could think was _thebabythebabythebaby_.  Frantically, he looked around for a distraction, finding a fire extinguisher nearby.  It wasn’t nearly up to his usual level, but it would have to do.  He pulled the pin and aimed, sweeping it across their opponents, hitting them square in the face and temporarily blinding them.  “Run, Jack!” Mac shouted, suiting actions to words.

The two agents took off running.  The thugs soon recovered and started shooting.  Jack shot back, but a bullet caught him in the side.  He grunted and covered the wound with his hand as he ran.

Mac looked over his shoulder and saw the older man grasp his side.  The blond slowed.  “Jack!  Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Jack gasped.  “Just a graze.  Keep running.”

Mac did as ordered but resolved to make sure Jack got checked out as soon as possible.  Between the punch and the bullet wound, there was way too much chance for damage to the baby.  Mac wasn’t willing to entertain the thought that something could happen to his child before it was even born.

As soon as they were safely in the getaway car and fleeing the scene with tires squealing, Mac had his cell phone out, punching in the number of Jack’s Guardian doctor.

Jack glanced over at Mac.  “Who are you calling?  Patty?”

“No, your doctor.”

“Why?” Jack asked.  “I told you, I’m fine.”

“Jack, you’re not fine,” Mac said.  “You got punched in the stomach and shot in the side.  What if something happened to the baby?”

Jack paled.  He hadn’t thought of that.  “Oh, God, you’re right.  Do you think it’s okay?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out,” Mac said, grimly.  He turned his attention to his phone as the doctor answered.  “Hi, I’m calling for Jack Dalton.  He got punched and shot, and he’s pregnant.”  Mac listened for a moment.  “Great.  We’ll be there as soon as possible.”  He hung up.  “He’s meeting us at the hospital.”

Jack nodded in acknowledgment and gunned the engine.  He wasn’t going to waste any time.  He had to know everything was okay.

Jack was rushed in as soon as they reached the hospital.  He thanked his lucky stars Mac had called the doctor ahead of time, and the doctor was there just for him (he could have thanked the Powers That Be, but Jack wasn’t inclined to give them credit for anything except meddling).  The doctor checked Jack’s vitals, then had him strip off his shirt.  He checked the bullet wound first, confirming it was just a graze and didn’t need stitches.  He did clean it thoroughly and bandage it, but said Jack should be fine in a couple of days.

The doctor turned his attention to Jack’s stomach next.  He palpitated it and held his stethoscope to it, moving it around Jack’s entire stomach.  “Any pain?”

Jack shook his head.

The doctor consulted Jack’s chart.  “So, you’re about 13 weeks along, right?”

Jack did some mental calculations.  “Yeah.”

Mac couldn’t hold it in any longer.  “Is the baby okay?”

“It’s too early to feel it moving,” the doctor said, “but the heartbeat is strong.  I want to do an ultrasound to be sure, but my preliminary determination is that there was no harm to the fetus.”

Jack and Mac breathed twin sighs of relief.  They may not have been expecting this, but both of them had quickly gotten attached to the future person Jack was carrying.  Having anything happen would devastate them both.  “Thank God,” Mac said, fervently.  Jack had to agree.

The doctor moved the machine into position and rubbed the gel on Jack’s stomach.  He slowly waved the wand over the area.  Soon, a picture popped up on the screen.  Mac and Jack peered anxiously at it, trying to make out the blob that was their child.

The doctor pointed.  “There it is.”

“And everything looks good?” Mac asked.  Jack had to grin at how anxious the other man was.  Not that Jack wasn’t concerned, but Mac was taking it to a whole other level.

The doctor studied the picture carefully.  “Fetus looks good, placenta seems to be properly attached, no sign of trauma.  Yeah, everything looks good.”

“See, Mac?  I told you I was fine,” Jack said.  He tried to sound light-hearted, but the truth was he’d been just as worried as Mac.  It was a big relief for the doctor to say everything was fine.

Mac exhaled slowly, trying to tamp down the adrenalin that had been running high since he’d seen the punch make contact with Jack’s abdomen.  He smiled as the doctor’s words finally hit him.  “Yeah, Jack, everything’s fine.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The whole baby scare has Jack thinking. He's got some hard decisions to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more introspective than really angsty. Next chapter's going to be a hard conversation with Thornton, then they'll tell Riley and Bozer and it should be light from there on out.

Due to the adrenalin from the combination of the mission and the scare with the baby, both men were drained when they got home, much later than planned.  “Want something to eat?” Mac asked as they shucked off their jackets.

Jack made a face.  “Ugh, no.”  Just the thought of food made him feel nauseous—it was one of those days.  The vomiting had stopped, but his stomach still churned periodically at the thought of food.  The rest of the time, he was scarfing down anything he could get his hands on.  And it was anything—each combination he came up with was worse than the last, in Mac’s opinion.  Jack yawned.  “I just want to sleep.”

“Sounds good.”  The two men got undressed and slid under the covers, Mac spooning Jack.  The blond pulled his lover tight against his chest, placing a hand on Jack’s still-flat belly.  There was no telltale swell, no movement yet, but Mac imagined there was.  He thought about how it would feel, Jack’s belly bulging with the baby within, its little feet kicking against Mac’s hand.  He could hardly wait.  “Have I told you how much I’m looking forward to this?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Jack said.  Mac waited for his lover to say more, but no words came.

“Aren’t you excited?”

Jack sighed.  “I guess.”

“You don’t sound excited.”  Mac raised himself up on his elbow to look at Jack.  The older man’s face was unreadable.  “You okay?”

“Yeah, just tired.”

Mac decided not to push it.  He settled back down, hand once again on Jack’s stomach.  Soon, he fell asleep, dreaming of the day he would feel the new life they were bringing into the world.

Mac awoke several hours later to an empty bed.  “Jack?” he called, softly.  No answer.  He called again, slightly louder.  “Jack?”  Still nothing.  Mac got up and peeked into the bathroom, still the most likely place to find his lover, even without the morning sickness and before the constant pressure on his bladder.  It was dark.  He padded out to the living room, figuring Jack was getting a snack (and Mac really didn’t want to know what appealed to the older man this time).  Both the living room and kitchen were dark.  Mac checked the deck next.  The chairs by the fire pit were empty.  Mac checked the driveway.  Jack’s car was gone.  Mac immediately knew where to look next.

Sure enough, Jack was at the graveyard, sitting in front of his father’s grave, knees tucked up to his chin, arms wrapped tightly around them.  Something was definitely bothering the Guardian.  As Mac got closer, he could hear Jack talking to the headstone.

“I don’t know what to do, Dad,” Jack said.  “This isn’t anything I ever anticipated.  I’ve thought about kids, yeah, but not seriously.  Riley was the closest I’ve come, but she wasn’t a baby, and look how that turned out.  She hated me for years.  And carrying them myself was definitely not even a remote possibility.”  Jack laughed, drily.  “I’m a man for heaven’s sake.  Men don’t get pregnant.  Unless, apparently, you’re a Guardian.”  Jack shifted uncomfortably.  “I know Mom was the Guardian, but how did you handle it, having a Guardian for a son?  I know it didn’t really come into play until I went into the military, but we all knew.  I knew practically from the time I could walk, so you guys must have known sooner.  I don’t know how you did it.  Being responsible for a child is bad enough, but one with special powers?  I can’t even imagine it.  I guess I’m going to have to, though.”

Jack was silent for a moment.  Mac started to approach, but then the brunet started talking again.  “This is no life for a child, Dad.  One parent constantly going off one dangerous missions is bad enough, but two?  What if something happens?  What if we both die?  What’s going to happen to our child then?”

Mac did approach Jack then, sinking down next to him.  Both men deliberately kept their gaze focused forward, concentrating on the headstone.  “How much did you hear?” Jack asked.

“Most of it,” Mac admitted.

“I don’t think I can do it, Mac.  I don’t think I can put our child at risk like that.”

Mac panicked.  Jack couldn’t be saying what Mac thought he was, could he?  Mac kept his voice as level as possible.  “Do you want to get rid of it?”

“No!”  Mac was relieved that Jack sounded horrified.  “I just mean, I don’t think I can continue with Phoenix.”

Mac was stunned.  Phoenix was practically Jack’s whole life.  Mac didn’t think the older man knew how to be anything but an agent or a soldier.  “Are you sure?  You don’t have to make any decisions now.  You can go on medical leave now until the baby’s born, and even a few months afterwards.”  It wasn’t that Mac was opposed to the idea—Jack did have a point about the risks, and the idea of one of them being a stay at home dad was appealing—but he didn’t want Jack to make any decisions he was going to regret.

“I don’t know,” Jack said.  “I just started thinking about it.  I guess this whole pregnancy thing didn’t seem real until today, until I was in a situation where something bad could have happened to the baby.  I don’t think it ever occurred to me I couldn’t just keep going like I have been.  But I’m almost 50.  I’m way past my expiration date.  Maybe it’s time, you know?”

“Don’t make a decision now,” Mac repeated.  “You can talk to Thornton tomorrow and tell her you’re going on leave effective immediately, but leave the return open.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.”  Jack leaned his head on Mac’s shoulder, and Mac wrapped an arm around him.  “So, we’re really going to be parents,” Jack said.

“Yes, we really are,” Mac confirmed.

“I’m terrified,” Jack admitted.

“So am I,” Mac said.  “But it’s going to be alright.  You’re going to be a great dad.”

“I hope so.”  There was a pause before Jack spoke again.  “So are you.”

Mac decided to try and lighten the situation.  “Yeah, we’re going to be the best parents ever.”

That got a grin out of Jack.  “We sure are.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack tells Thornton the news and gets ready to start a new chapter in his life.

Jack broke the news to Thornton the next day.

 

“I’m very sorry to hear that,” she said.  “What is the issue?”

 

“I have a tumor,” Jack said, managing to keep a straight face, but just barely.  Mac didn’t do so well, not able to hold back a snort.  That was the story they’d agreed on, but it made Mac think of Jack’s initial reaction to finding out he was pregnant.  It was true, sort of—Jack did have a growth, of sorts.

 

Thornton looked at him.  “Do you think this is funny?”

 

Mac held his hands in front of him to deny it.  “No, no, not at all.”

 

Thornton turned her attention back to Jack.

 

“How long will you be out?”

 

“At least nine months”   Mac had to contain another snort.  Jack glared at him.

 

“I assume you have a doctor’s note.”

 

“Yeah, turned it in to HR.  Already filled out all the paperwork.”

 

“When is it effective?”

 

“Immediately,” Jack said.  He and Mac had talked about delaying it, getting in a few more missions, maybe desk duty, but Jack was adamant—no more risk to the fetus, and, in his words, “There’s no way in hell you’re tying me to a desk.”  Mac had to admit he had a point—Jack would go crazy within a day—he was a man of action, not one to sit around in an office all day.  Days between missions were bad enough.  Stuck at a desk for months?  Not happening.  Mac was a little afraid of what would happen with Jack stuck at home, but he wasn’t going to worry about that—yet.

 

“Are you sure you can’t put it off?  I was hoping to send the team out on another mission in two days.  It’s local—just a simple in and out.”

 

“No,” Jack said, firmly.  He’d seen what could—and usually did—happen with missions that were supposed to be simple.  After the scare the day before, he had vowed there was no way he was taking any chances, no matter how simple the mission appeared.  “I have a treatment tomorrow,” he added.  Again, that was what he and Mac had agreed on.  Hopefully, Thornton wouldn’t question it.

 

“That’s too bad,” she said.  “I’m sure the team will miss you,” Jack noted she didn’t say she would miss him, but that was okay.  “We all look forward to having you back.”

 

“About that. . .” Jack started, then paused, unsure how to continue.

 

Thornton raised an eyebrow and motioned for him to go on.

 

“I’m not sure I’m coming back,” Jack said, uncertainly.  “The prognosis is good,” he hastened to add—yeah, the prognosis was definitely for a baby in six months-time, that was pretty certain—“It’s just, I think it will take a lot out of me, and I’m not sure I’ll be up to coming back.”  True enough, as far as it went.

 

“I see.”  Thornton’s tone was even.  “I hope it doesn’t come to that.  It would be a shame to lose you.  On the team, I mean.”

 

“I hope it doesn’t come to that, either,” Jack said.  That was a flat-out lie.  The more he thought about it, the better retirement sounded.  He could just see him at home, taking care of their son or daughter, changing diapers, feeding them, chasing after them—wow, that sounded almost as hard as being in the field.  Not that Jack was going to change his mind.

 

There was an awkward silence.  Finally, Mac broke it.  “Well, if that’s everything, Jack should finish getting his stuff together, and you should brief me, Riley, and Bozer on the mission.”

 

That seemed to bring Thornton back to the present.  “Right.  Yes.  I’ll do that.”  She held out her hand to Jack.  “Best of luck.  It’s been a pleasure working with you.”

 

Jack shook the offered hand.  “It’s been a pleasure working with you, Patty.”  He couldn’t resist calling her that one more time.  She flinched.  “Well, I guess I’m off then.”  He left the room, Mac following close on his heels.

 

“So, how does it feel to be practically retired?” Mac asked once they were out of earshot of Thornton.

 

“Weird,” Jack said, “but good.  This is all I’ve ever known.  It seems strange to be moving on.”

 

Mac clapped Jack on the shoulder.  “Yeah, but you’re going to love being a stay at home dad.”  He hoped.  Otherwise Jack was going to drive them all crazy.

 

A slow grin broke out on Jack’s features.  “Yeah, I think I am.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team finds out about Jack's pregnancy.

Jack was just about finished gathering his things when Riley and Bozer burst into the room.

“Jack!” Riley said.  “Why didn’t you tell us you had cancer?”

“Yeah, man,” Bozer said, “you’re dying!  Shouldn’t you tell your friends?  I mean, what are we going to do without you?  What’s _Mac_ going to do without you?  Ah, man, does Mac know?  We’re here for you, whatever happens.”

“Do I still get your car?” Riley cut in, interrupting Bozer’s apparently endless ramble.

Jack held up a hand to stave off their torrent of questions.  “Whoa, whoa, take it easy.  First of all, I’m not dying.”

“But you do have cancer,” Riley said.

“What kind?” Bozer asked.  “Are you going to have chemo?  Are you going to lose all your hair?  Wow, I can’t imagine your hair any shorter than it is.  What’s going to happen with your wings?  Will you lose all your feathers?  Will you be able to fly?”

“Slow down,” Jack said.  “I’m not dying, I don’t have cancer, and I’m not going to lose all my hair _or_ all my feathers.”  Any more, he added to himself.  The molting had finally stopped, as the doctor had promised, but there was a time when he was worried his wings would be down to just a skeletal frame, not that he’d told Mac.  The kid was worried enough as it was.  Mac could be quite the mother hen.  Not that Jack wouldn’t have done the same thing in Mac’s place.

“But you told Thornton you had a tumor,” Riley said, puzzled.

Jack sighed.  He really should have told them sooner.  It was just, as he’d told Mac, it hadn’t really been real to him.  “Can we not do this here?  I’d rather we do this in private.”

“You have to tell us,” Riley said.  “You can’t just leave without even telling us!”

“I’m sorry,” Jack said.  “The decision to leave was pretty sudden—not that I didn’t think it through, I just didn’t really make up my mind until last night.”

“But you had to have known for awhile,” Riley said.  Her tone was slightly accusatory, like she blamed Jack for keeping it secret.  And rightly so, though Jack hadn’t really meant to.  He had every intention of telling them; he’d just never gotten around to it, and, again, he and Mac were still coming to grips with it themselves.

“We haven’t known very long,” Jack said, “and we wanted to be sure before we said anything.  It just seemed so unreal, you know?”

“What did?” Riley asked.

“Not here,” Jack said again.  “At home.”

Bozer and Riley nodded, clearly not happy, but respecting Jack’s wishes.

Jack finished his packing, and he and Mac headed home, finding Riley and Bozer already there.  They both looked ready to pounce as soon as the couple walked in, but Mac staved them off by heading to the fridge as Jack got comfortable in the living room.

“Beer, anyone?” Mac asked.  Riley and Bozer nodded, so he grabbed three beers and a water and made his way to the living room to join the others.  He saw both Riley’s and Bozer’s gaze flick down to the water as he handed it to Jack, but neither said anything.  Jack knew, though, that it wasn’t calming their fears.  No telling what scenarios they were cooking up in their very fertile imaginations.

“So, tell us, Jack, why are you leaving the team?” Riley said, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had fallen.

Jack leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands clutching the water bottle as though it were a lifeline.  He took a deep breath, trying to order his thoughts in some way that made sense.  Then he decided _fuck it; I’ll just come out with it_.  “I’m pregnant,” he blurted.

The silence was deafening.  “You’re what?!?” Riley said, shaking her head in disbelief.

“I’m pregnant,” Jack repeated.

“This has got to be some kind of joke,” Riley said.  “Is this how you cope with having cancer?  By joking?  Because it’s not very funny.”

Jack sighed, wishing there was some better way to show her.  Then he had an idea.  “Mac, get the ultrasound.”

Mac complied, handing it to Riley.  She squinted at it.  “I get that there’s something there, but it sure doesn’t look like a baby.”

Bozer was more open-minded.  “Sure it does.  See, there’s its little hands and its little feet and its little head.”

Riley just stared at Bozer like _he_ was the one with a second head.  Mac and Jack had to admit they couldn’t see the baby’s features with quite the same clarity, although they were definitely there if you looked closely.  Along with. . .

“Dude, are those _wings?_ ” Bozer asked, awe filling his voice.

Mac and Jack looked closer.  Sure enough, there were two little lumps protruding from the fetus’ back.  “Probably,” Jack said.  “I’m pretty sure it’s going to be a Guardian.  That’s kind of the point.”

“Whoa, back up,” Riley said.  “Start at the beginning.”

“Being a Guardian is hereditary, but reproduction is slowing down,” Jack explained.  “So, apparently, male Guardians can get pregnant.”

“That is so cool!” Bozer said, unable to contain his excitement.  Mac had to chuckle.  Of course the man would find it cool.  He’d probably find a way to work it into one of his projects.  “Can I be the godfather?  Oooh, I can be uncle Bozer, and Riley can be Aunt Riley!”

“I don’t think I’m ready to be an Aunt,” Riley said.

“Dude, why not?” Bozer said.  “It’ll be so cool!  We can get it little outfits and toys and spoil it and not have to deal with it.  Oooh, we have to have a baby shower!”

Riley looked at him in amazement.  “How can you take this so well?  We just found out Jack’s pregnant.  Don’t you think that’s weird.”

Bozer shrugged.  “Jack has wings and is some sort of guardian angel type thing.  I’m a spy.  I’ve kind of gotten used to weird.”

“I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast,” Mac muttered under his breath.

“Well, I’m going to need some time,” Riley said.  “This is a little much to get my head around.”

“Just think how we felt,” Jack said.

Riley was clearly processing all the new information.  “So, you’re leaving Phoenix because you’re pregnant.  I can see that, and I can see why you might not come back.  That’s a big deal.  I can’t see trying to balance a kid and my job, and I’m not out in the field.”

“Exactly,” Jack said, relieved she seemed to be accepting the situation.  “Like I said, I’m sorry for not telling you.  I didn’t think about how you’d react.”

Riley punched him in the arm.  “Dude, you let us think you had cancer!  That is so not cool.”

“Sorry,” Jack apologized again.  “Forgive me?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Riley said.

The silence that settled was starting to get uncomfortable when Mac broke in.  “So, I think we should celebrate Jack’s retirement, and the baby.  Who’s in?”

Everyone raised their hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know baby's are pretty identifiable at 13 weeks. Riley's in denial.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unsurprisingly, Jack's bored staying home alone. So, the team sets out to find him a hobby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next few chapters are going to be _extremely_ fluffy. Like, blow on them and they'll float away. Enjoy!

Jack lasted two weeks at home before he was bored to tears.

Mac was surprised he lasted that long; he had expected Jack to crack after two days, max.

Day 1 Jack spent exercising, and not just his normal routine.  He did a 10 mile run, _then_ his normal workout, _then_ a couple of hours of boxing practice.

Mac found out the next morning when Jack complained of being sore and threw a fit.  “Jack, you can’t do that!”

“Why not?” Jack wanted to know.

“Because it’s not good for the baby!”

“But I can’t just sit around for six months doing nothing!  That can’t be good for either of us,” Jack protested.

“You can exercise,” Mac said, “just not like _that_.  You need low-impact stuff.”

“How do you know all this?” Jack asked.  “Pretty sure you’ve never been pregnant.  Unless you’ve got some kid lurking in the shadows I don’t know about.”

“I know because I read the stuff the doctor gave us,” Mac said, “unlike you, apparently.”

Jack looked sheepish.  “I figured you read it and had it all under control.”

Mac thrust a sheaf of papers at him.  Jack looked at it in dismay.  That was a _lot_ of stuff.  Mac couldn’t expect him to read all that.  But, apparently, Mac did.  “Read it, Jack.  I mean it.  I’m not riding herd on your ass for the next six months.”

“Yes, sir,” Jack said meekly.

“In the meantime,” Mac continued, “I’m enrolling you in water aerobics.”

Jack _hated_ water aerobics.  Mac had enrolled him in a class for pregnant women, and Jack felt really out of place as the only guy.  Obviously, he couldn’t explain that he was pregnant, too, so he made up a story about it being the only time he could make it and his doctor recommending it to help with old injuries (which actually wasn’t far from the truth—some of Jack’s chronic aches and pains _did_ feel better.  It didn’t make him like the class any more, though.)  The main reason he hated it was it was too easy.  It reminded him a little of Delta Force training, except what the aerobics class did every day was just the warm-up his first day of training.  He begged Mac to let him drop it, but Mac refused.

“You said you needed exercise,” Mac pointed out.  “This is your opportunity.”

“But, Mac. . .” Jack whined.

“No buts,” Mac said firmly.  “This is what you get.  Take it or leave it.”

“Fine,” Jack said with a deep, put-upon sigh.

That took up his mornings, but he found he still had way too much energy and way too much time on his hands.

“So, help with the housework,” Mac said.

Jack did.  He decided to make Mac and Bozer dinner the first night, but that turned into a disaster.  Bozer flat out refused to eat the hot and sour soup with hot dogs and vegetables Jack had concocted (the hot and sour part was from a recipe.  He just thought the vegetables and hot dogs sounded good).

“Dude,” Bozer said, staring aghast at the hot dogs floating in his bowl, “hot dogs are meant to be grilled.  That’s the only reason I tolerate them in my kitchen. They are _not_ meant for soup.”  Bozer threw an even bigger fit when he saw the state of the kitchen.  “Dude, are those _carrots_ on the ceiling?”

“I’ll clean them up,” Jack promised.

“No!” Bozer said.  “You’ve done enough damage to my kitchen.  Go sit down, and I’ll clean up.  In fact, just stay out of my kitchen entirely, okay?”

So, Jack stayed out of the kitchen.  The second day he dedicated to vacuuming.  That went fine until the vacuum stopped working, and Jack managed to dump all the contents of the bag on the floor trying to fix the problem.  When Mac came home and found the new layer of dust over everything, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and told Jack to take a nap while he cleaned up.

“But I’m not tired,” Jack protested.

“Then take a walk—a _walk_ , not a run—“ Mac stressed.  “Just get out of my hair.”

Jack decided to stick to laundry.  After all, he’d been doing his laundry all his adult life.  He couldn’t mess that up, right?  Wrong.  He accidentally put a pair of new, red briefs in with the whites and turned them all pink—“At least no one will see them,” Jack pointed out—and put a rayon shirt of Mac’s in the dryer, shrinking it to the perfect size for a newborn—“Hey, that’s one less piece of clothing we have to buy.  How was I supposed to know it was going to shrink?  Everything I own is wash and wear!”

After that, Mac and Bozer made an executive decision that Jack was no longer allowed to do housework.

“But what am I supposed to do?” Jack whined.

“You’ll think of something,” Mac said.

Jack did.  The next week he had the brilliant idea to work on their cars.  And it was a brilliant idea, except that there was only so much he could do.  By the end of the week, Mac’s bike, Jack’s muscle car, and all their daily vehicles, including Riley’s, were running like a dream.

“Wow, I’m impressed,” Riley said when she picked up her car.  “You’ve really got something going here.”

Jack sighed.  “Yeah, except now I have nothing else to do.”

“You could get a car to fix up,” Riley said.

Jack brightened at that.  “That’s a good idea!”

“I hate to burst your bubble,” Mac said, “but in a month or so you’re going to be too big to work on a car.”

Jack’s face fell.

“It’s a good idea, though,” Mac said.  “Maybe we can do it when our kid gets a little older and all three of us can work on it together.”

“Yeah, that’s a great idea!” Jack said.  “But what am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

“You need a hobby,” Riley said.

“Yeah, but what?”

“Not cooking,” Bozer said firmly.  “You’ve already proved you’re no good at that.  Leave the cooking to me, please.”

Riley thought a minute.  “I know!  You can knit!  Or crochet!  You can make blankets for the baby!”

“Yeah, okay,” Jack said.  “I can try that.”

He did.  He really did.  The next day the four of them went shopping (Jack because it was his project, Riley to help with colors and patterns—“What, you think just because I’m a girl I know about that shit?”, Mac because Jack said the younger man had to like whatever he picked out, and Bozer because he wasn’t about to be left out).  They spent an hour arguing over yarn.

 “Dude, you cannot get camouflage,” Riley said. 

“Well, what would you pick?” Jack asked.

Riley handed him a skein of black yarn.  “Here.  Goes with everything.”

“No way!  I’m not making black blankets for a baby!”

“I have to agree with Jack,” Mac said.  “That’s really morbid.”

“You could always go with the traditional pink or blue,” Bozer suggested.

“Yeah, but we don’t know which it is,” Jack said.

“So, get both and make it both pink and blue,” Bozer said.  “That way you’re prepared either way.”

“I’m not tying my child down to outdated societal norms in terms of colors,” Mac insisted.  And the argument continued.

Finally, Riley found a skein of rainbow variegated yarn.  “How about this?”

“Dude, do you want the baby to go blind?” Bozer said, making an exaggerated show of covering his eyes.

Jack reached for it.  “I like it.”

“So do I,” Mac said.  “Makes a statement.  All-inclusive.”

“Great,” Riley said.  “Now, let’s find a pattern.”

The four of them stared, bewildered, at the racks of patterns.  Even narrowing it to just afghans left several shelves.  Further limiting it to baby afghans still left two racks. 

“Knit or crochet?” Riley asked.

“How about one of each?” Bozer suggested.  “That way Jack can decide which he likes best.”

“Yeah, I like that idea,” Jack agreed.

“That still leaves us these two racks,” Riley said.  “One of each.”

“Get something with a lot of different patterns,” Mac said.  “That way we’ll have a lot to choose from.”

“Here,” Riley said.  “The Big Book of Crochet Stitches.  Over 350 stitches.”

Mac took the book and thumbed through it.  “This is great!  It even gives you formulas, like 7+2, so you can make them any size you want!”

“I don’t know about that,” Jack said.  “Sounds kind of complicated.  You know math isn’t my strong suit.”

“You’ll do fine,” Mac said.  “I’ll help.”  The book went in their basket with the yarn.

“Now, we just need to find one for knitting,” Riley said.

“Is there something similar?” Jack asked.

Riley scanned the shelves.  “Here you go.  Knit Stitch Dictionary.  This has 250 patterns.”

“Perfect,” Jack said.  “Now, let’s get out of here.”

Armed with his yarn, his pattern book, and the biggest needles he could find, Jack tried knitting first.  He reasoned working with two needles would be easier than working with one hook.  It didn’t seem to work that way, though.  Jack kept dropping stitches, and while the concept of the knit stitch was pretty easy to grasp, purling was beyond him.  Mac came home to find his lover surrounded by a pile of snarled yarn with a very holy—thing—that Mac generously assumed was supposed to be an afghan hanging off his hooks.

“I can’t do this, Mac,” Jack said, frustrated.

“Here, let me see.”  Mac took the book and needles from Jack.  He read the pattern, ripped out what Jack had, and started in.  Soon, he had several rows of neat little stitches which were just starting to form a discernible pattern.  “It’s not that hard.  Look, I’ll show you.”  He held the project out to Jack, but Jack waved it away.

“No, thanks.  I think I’ll let you stick to yarn crafts,” Jack said, leaning back on the couch and crossing his arms with a huff.

“Maybe crocheting will be better.”

“Maybe,” Jack said, “but I doubt it.”

Crocheting _was_ better.  Jack could do the stitches pretty well, but his tension was a mess—it sagged in some places and bunched in others.  And, Jack just couldn’t get the hang of the end effects and kept missing the last stitch, so his rectangular blanket quickly turned into a triangle.

Mac was nothing but supportive.  “You’ll get the hang of it.  A few more days and you’ll be a pro.”

Jack threw his project aside.  “Nah, it’s not worth it.”

“Suit yourself.”  Mac picked up the knitting project he’d started.  “I think it’s kind of fun.  Maybe I’ll try booties next.”

“You do that,” Jack said.

It was Thornton who finally hit on the solution.  Jack had taken to hanging out at the Phoenix Foundation, answering Thornton’s questions evasively and generally making a pest of himself.  After three days, Thornton stalked up to the desk where Jack was sitting with his feet kicked up playing with the ubiquitous paper clips (he couldn’t manage more than a chain, but it kept his hands busy) and threw something down in front of him.

Jack picked it up.  “What’s this?”

“It’s an adult coloring book.”

“What am I supposed to do with it?”

Thornton gave an exasperated sigh.  “You color in it.”

Jack shoved it back towards her.  “No, thanks, Patty.  Not my thing.”

Thornton pushed it towards Jack again.  “Just try it.  Please.  Before you drive us all crazy.”

Jack sighed and picked up the book.  “Fine.”

To his surprise, Jack found he liked coloring.  Mac bought him several more coloring books and the biggest set of colored pencils he could find.  Jack took to embellishing his creations, adding patterns and extra fillips.  Mac, Riley, and Bozer heaved a collective sigh of relief.  Finally, something to keep Jack occupied.  Now, it just had to last the rest of his pregnancy.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to decorate the nursery!

It was Riley who had the idea to decorate the baby’s room.

She was watching Jack color.  He favored pieces that were just outlines without much detail.  Sure, the elaborate ones were nice, but there wasn’t much room to get creative—they already had plenty of flourishes.  The outlines he could cut loose on, making stripes and swirls and other designs so a simple piece became a whirl of color and pattern.  In this case, his base was a simple daisy and he was drawing miniature daisies in each petal.  He’d colored the main flower yellow, but he was planning to make each miniature flower a different color, creating a rainbow of colors.  Riley was entranced.

“You should do that to the baby’s room,” she said.

“What?” Jack asked.

“Paint it like that.  Or any one of your pieces.”  She gestured to the finished pages spread out on the coffee table.  Jack like to see his finished work, so they stayed on the table when he had finished.  Mac had jokingly suggested hanging them on the fridge, but Jack had refused.

“Nah, save that for the kid’s drawings,” he’d said.  So, the coffee table it was.

Jack studied the vibrant pieces.  He favored bold colors and lots of them, leading Bozer to complain he needed sunglasses every time he walked by.  “Don’t you think that’s a little 60’s?” Jack asked.

“You’d know,” Riley teased.

“Hey,” Jack protested, “I was just a kid when the 60’s ended!”

“Whatever.  You don’t have to do the whole wall.  You can paint the wall a solid color, then decorate it with shapes.”

“I don’t draw,” Jack said.  “I just color.”

“You can get stencils.  Then it’s just like you’re doing now.” Riley said.  She typed something in her laptop and turned the screen towards Jack.  There was an array of daisy stencils pictured.

Jack studied them.  “I don’t know,” he said.  “Don’t you think that’s a little much?”

“Lots of people do it.”  She typed something else, and pictures of babies’ rooms popped up.  Many of them did, indeed, have colorful drawings on the wall.

Jack still wasn’t convinced.  “I’ll have to think about it.”

The idea stuck with him, so he broached the subject with Mac when the younger man came home that night.  “What do you think of painting the baby’s room with stencils I can color?”

Mac thought about it a moment.  “I like it.  What designs would we use?”

“Riley showed me some daisies, but I think those are too girly.”

“We don’t want the baby to be tied to the artificial societal norms of ‘girl’ and ‘boy’,” Mac reminded him.

Jack turned to Riley, who was unashamedly listening in.  “Would you paint flowers on your walls?”

Riley snorted.  “Hell, no!”

Jack turned to Mac.  “See?”

“What then?”  All three were silent a minute, thinking, until Mac spoke up.  “We could put stencils of science things on the wall.”  Somehow, neither Riley nor Jack were surprised to hear him suggest that.

“Molecules and DNA strands aren’t very colorful,” Jack said.

“Animals?” Riley suggested.

“Too cutesy,” Jack said.

“Hey, I like animals!” Riley protested.

“Would you put them on your walls?” Jack asked again.

“Okay, maybe not,” Riley conceded.

Jack had the next idea.  “Hey, how about a space theme?”

Mac considered it.  “I like it.”

Jack turned to Riley.  “How ‘bout it?  Any cool space stencils out there?”

Riley typed the phrase into her laptop.  “Tons.”  She showed them the results.

Jack looked at them.  “I could definitely work with that.”

“That’s settled, then,” Mac said.  “What color would we use as the base.”

“Black,” Jack said.

“No way,” Mac said.  “I’m not painting the baby’s room black.  That’s too depressing.”

“Blue, then,” Jack said.

“That goes back to societal norms.”

“Not baby blue,” Jack said.  “Midnight blue.”

“Still a little dark,” Mac said.

Riley pulled up a color spectrum.  “There’s still a lot of options that are lighter but still night sky-ish.”  She frowned at the last word.  That didn’t sound quite right.  “Whatever.”

Mac looked at the options.  “I like it.  Let’s do it.”

That Saturday, Mac, Jack, Riley, and Bozer descending on Lowe’s and gathered everything they could possibly need.  Mac insisted he could make a better paint delivery method than brushes and rollers, but Jack nixed the idea.

“The point isn’t to make it efficient,” he said.  “The point is to have something we can all do together.”  Mac conceded the point.

Once they got home, they cleared everything out of the spare room, soon to be the nursery, and laid out all their supplies.  “Base first,” Mac said.  “Then we can add the stencils, and Jack can make his designs.”

Jack rubbed his hands together.  “Right.  Let’s get started.”

Mac stopped him with a hand on his arm.  “Not you.”

“Why not?” Jack asked, surprised.

“Paint fumes are bad for the baby.”

“Aw, come on, Mac,” Jack whined.  “Pregnant women paint nurseries all the time.”

“He’s right,” Riley said.  “I know for a fact Mom painted the nursery when she was pregnant with me.”

Mac still looked doubtful.

“Look, you know all about chemicals,” Bozer said.  “Is paint really that bad?”

Mac considered that.  They’d gotten the safest paint there was, so there probably wasn’t any more risk to Jack than to a regular person.  Mac gave in.  “Alright.”  Jack’s face lit up.  Mac held up a hand in warning.  “BUT you wear a mask, and we open all the windows.”

“Fair enough,” Jack agreed.

Jack enjoyed painting the room together.  It felt like a very “family” thing to do, and these people were, in their own way, his closest family.  Mac took the task very seriously, and seemed displeased that Riley and Bozer didn’t.  They ignored his scowls, laughing and splashing paint on each other, until some paint landed on Mac.  Jack had to laugh at Mac’s dour expression, but Riley and Bozer sobered right up, going back to quietly painting the walls.

Finally, it was time to add the stencils.  Mac got a large pad of graph paper and stuck it on the living room wall.  He made a sketch of the room.  “Okay, where do we want to put the stencils?”

“Seriously?” Bozer said.  “You’re making a diagram?”

“We have to know exactly where we want them to go, or we’re just wasting space,” Mac said.

“Dude,” Bozer said.  “You’re taking all the fun out of it!  You’re supposed to be spontaneous!  The artistic process can’t be diagrammed!”

“I’m not an artist, I’m a scientist,” Mac said, firmly.  “We diagram.”

“I agree with Mac,” Jack said.  “Otherwise, they could get clumpy.”

“Is that even a technical term?” Riley asked.  Jack just glared at her.  “Okay, fine.  Diagram it is.”

They argued over the placement of every stencil, and whether or not to include spaceships (Mac and Bozer wanted ships; Riley and Jack wanted a skyscape.  Riley and Jack won by virtue of Jack saying he was doing the stencils, so he should get to do what he wanted).  It was all in good fun, though, and they laughed and joked while they argued.  Jack hadn’t felt so close to anyone in ages, and didn’t want it to end.

At last, the diagram was done, and it was time to actually trace the stencils on the wall.  Mac carefully marked the place for each one (he refused to let anyone else do it, saying he didn’t trust them.  Jack had to admit he probably had a point; Jack wasn’t sure he’d trust Riley and Bozer, especially Bozer, to stick to a diagram, either).  They divided up the room to draw the stencils, Riley and Bozer taking the lower ones; Mac and Jack taking the higher ones.  Mac refused to let Jack up on a ladder, though, saying there was too much risk of falling.  Jack argued, but in the end agreed, figuring that was one battle he wasn’t going to win.  Mac was a terrible mother hen.  Jack was afraid it would drive him crazy by the time the baby was born, but he had to admit he’d probably be the same way if positions were reversed (not that that was going to happen, thank goodness!).

After all the stencils were traced, Jack shooed everyone else out of the room and got to work.  He painted the designs mostly during the day while the others were at work, locking the door at night so they couldn’t see.  “It’s a surprise,” he said.

One night, Jack met his friends at the door, practically vibrating with excitement.  “It’s done!” he said.

“Great.  Let’s see,” Mac said.

Jack led the way to the nursery and threw the door open.  Riley and Bozer gasped in surprise.  “This is fantastic!” Riley said.

It really was.  The dark walls provided a sober background to the vibrantly colored and patterned planets and stars.  It was colorful, but not overdone—Mac’s plan had ensured that.  Jack looked anxiously at his lover who had yet to say anything.  “Do you like it, Mac?”

Mac wiped a splash of paint off Jack’s nose and kissed it.  “I love it.”

“Really?”

Mac put his arms around Jack and kissed him more deeply.  “Really.”

Jack sighed in relief.  “Good.  I was afraid you wouldn’t like it.”

Bozer interrupted the pair.  “Riley and I got you something.  I’ll be right back.”  Bozer darted off to his room to fetch the gift.

Mac and Jack looked at each other uneasily.  “What do you think it is?” Jack asked.

“I’m afraid to ask,” Mac replied.

Bozer returned shortly with a mobile that was a model of the solar system, complete with moons.

Mac was awed.  “That’s amazing.”

“Thank you,” Bozer said, smugly.  “I made it myself.”  Mac and Jack weren’t surprised.  Bozer’s modeling skills were as good as his mask-making skills.

“I helped paint,” Riley put in.

Jack ruffled her hair.  She scowled and ducked away.  “You did a great job.”

Bozer got up on a ladder and hung the mobile from the ceiling.  “There.  All you need is a baby.”

The other three laughed.  “That’ll come soon enough,” Mac said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, over 10,000 words! This is my first fic that's that long. I've only had two others top 7500, and one of those was only because I tacked on a timestamp. Go, me!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that the nursery's decorated, it's time to furnish it. And, Jack and Mac learn they need a registry and birth announcements. Never fear--Riley and Bozer are here to help!

“You know,” Riley said once they’d retired to the living room, “a baby isn’t all you need.  You need furniture, too.”

“We know,” Mac said.  “We were planning to wait until closer to the time.”

“You’ve got the nursery decorated.  You can do it now,” Riley said.

“Yeah, we can all go shopping Saturday!” Bozer said, excitedly.  “It’ll be great.”

“No,” Jack said.  “No way.  If we take you guys, it’ll take hours, and you’ll want to buy everything.”

Bozer’s face fell.  “Ah, come on.  Please?  We promise we’ll be good.  Right, Riley?”

“Absolutely,” Riley assured them.

“Fine,” Jack said, resigned.  “Saturday it is.”

Mac was surprised to find Riley and Bozer sitting at the table when he returned from his morning run on Saturday.  “What are you doing up so early?” he asked.

“We wanted to get an early start on shopping,” Riley said.

Mac looked at the clock.  “It’s barely 8 am.  The store doesn’t even open until 9.”

“Yeah, but we wanted to be there as soon after that as possible,” Bozer said.  “That way, maybe we can get the furniture today and start putting it together.”

Mac rolled his eyes.  “You guys are ridiculous.  Jack isn’t even up yet.”

“Yeah, I am.”  Jack staggered into the kitchen, bleary-eyed, hair a mess, dressed in ragged, baggy sweatpants and a holey t-shirt.  “You guys are too loud.”  He headed for the coffee pot.  Mac glared at him.  “Take it easy.  I’m making decaf.  Sheesh, give a pregnant guy a break, why don’t you?”

“Why aren’t you dressed?” Bozer demanded.

Jack sat down at the table, coffee mug in hand.  “Because I’ve only been up about five minutes.  Give me a chance to wake up, will you?  I need coffee and food first.”

Riley pushed a bag towards him.  “I brought bagels.”

Jack dug into the bag, eagerly.  “Great.  Did you get onion bagels?  And strawberry cream cheese?”

“I got one of everything.  Bagels and cream cheese.”  These days, Jack’s tastes varied widely by mood, plus, he was likely to put away enough for two people (or one grown man and one growing baby, as the case may be).

Jack pulled out what he wanted.  “Awesome!  Now, all I need is anchovies.”  He peered into the bag.  “Don’t suppose you have any of those in here?”

Riley managed not to gag.  “No, but I got lox.  Will that work?”  She really, really hoped so, because anchovies, eww.

“No, it’s got to be anchovies,” Jack insisted.  “That’s okay—I think I have some in the fridge.”

“You what?!?” Bozer exploded.  “Unless you’re using them for Caesar dressing, there should not be anchovies in _my_ fridge.”

Jack held the offending tin to his chest, protecting it from Bozer’s rage.  “You wouldn’t deny a pregnant man his anchovies, now would you?”

Bozer waved his hands to fend off the anchovies.  “Just keep them away from me.”

“Fine.  I’ll go eat it in the bedroom.”

Mac couldn’t help making a face at Jack’s retreating back.  The bedroom would smell like fish for the next week.  Still, it was a small price to pay, and, sadly, it was one of the less offensive things Jack had had a craving for.

“So, do you have a list of what you need?” Riley asked Mac while they were waiting for Jack.

“Oh, I have one,” Bozer said.  “I made it last night.”  He whipped out several double-sided pages stapled together.

Mac took the list and looked it over.  “Bozer, we don’t need half this stuff.  If I want an automatic bottle-warmer, I’ll just make one.”

“Besides,” Riley added, “a lot of this stuff should go on your registry.”

Jack came back into the kitchen in time to hear that last part.  “What do we need a registry for?”

“So your friends know what to get you,” Riley explained.

“We don’t have any friends,” Jack said.  “Except you guys, and you’ve done enough already.”

“Come on, you must have friends,” Riley said.

“Yeah, what about Penny?” Bozer said.  “Or Sarah?”

“I don’t think our ex-girlfriends are very likely to want to get us baby gifts,” Mac said.

“Why not?” Bozer wanted to know.  “You’re still on good terms with them.  Penny helped with your intervention when we thought you were pining after your dead girlfriend, and you went to Sarah’s wedding.”

Mac and Jack still looked dubious.

“Thornton, then,” Riley suggested.  “I’m sure she’ll want to get you something.”

Mac sighed.  “We’re not getting out of this, are we?”

“Nope,” Riley said.  She hit a few keys.  “There.  I’ve got one set up for you.  When we get to the store, you can get one of those cool laser things and add what you want.”

“Oooh, can I use it?” Bozer asked.  “Those things are so cool!”

“We’ve already gone over this,” Jack said.  “You’ll just get carried away.”

“Pretty please?” Bozer begged.  “I promise I’ll only put on what you tell me to.”

“Fine,” Jack conceded.  “But only what we tell you to.”

“Promise,” Bozer said.

The promise didn’t last.  As soon as they walked in, Bozer spotted a Finding Nemo activity jumper.  “Ooh, you should get this!  It’s totally awesome!”

“Don’t you think it’s a little overkill?  I mean, what does a baby need with all that stuff?”

“I don’t know.  I think it’s very intellectually stimulating,” Mac said.

Riley nudged Jack.  “Yeah, you don’t want the kid to grow up a meathead like some people I could name.”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Jack said.  “Let’s just stick to the essentials, okay?”

“This is an essential,” Bozer insisted.

Jack looked imploringly at Mac. 

“Don’t look at me,” Mac said.  “I agree.  I think it’d be good for the kid.”

Jack sighed, resigned.  “Okay, but not Finding Nemo.  I hated that movie.”

“I don’t think they have Bruce Willis themed jumpers,” Mac joked.

Jack glared.

“How about this one?”  Riley staved off further arguing by pointing to a jungle-themed one.

“Okay,” Jack agreed.  Mac nodded.

Bozer rubbed his hands together.  “That’s settled.  Now, let’s get the rest of the stuff.”

“Okay,” Mac said.  He peered at a layout of the store and consulted the list.  He mentally plotted out the most efficient route.  “Here’s how we’re going to do it. . .”

Jack rubbed his forehead.  He could already feel a headache coming on.  It was going to be a long afternoon.

An hour later, Jack’s mood hadn’t improved.  So far, they’d only covered two aisles, and they argued about _everything_.  Jack put his foot down and insisted on the plainest crib and changing table available.  Riley and Bozer looked disappointed, but cheered up when Jack promised to decorate them to match the space theme.  Jack was pleasantly surprised to see Mac pass up most of the high-tech gadgets available.  Curious, Jack asked why.

“I can do better,” was Mac’s simple response.  Jack wasn’t sure whether or not that was comforting.

Another hour and they’d covered all the “basics”, according to Riley and Bozer.  Jack felt some of what they considered “essential” was arguable (and, indeed, he had argued but been overruled), but went along with it.  In addition, they had what Jack thought must be hundreds of items on their registry.

“It’s only 72,” Mac informed him.

“That’s still too much,” Jack said.  “I still don’t think anybody’s going to get us anything.”

“You’d be surprised,” Riley said.  “Just wait until you send out the birth announcements.”

Mac and Jack looked at each other in a panic.  “Birth announcements?” Jack squeaked.

“Oooh, can I design them for you?” Bozer asked.  Really, his eagerness was starting to get annoying.  You’d think he was the one having the baby.

“Yeah, just leave everything to Bozer and I,” Riley said.  “You’ll love them!”

“But we don’t have anybody to send those to, either!” Jack protested.  Not surprisingly, his protests fell on deaf ears.  Oh, well, if it kept them happy. . .

Once they got everything home, Riley and Bozer sat down to design birth announcements (much to Jack’s dismay—he was really nervous to see what they came up with), and Jack and Mac started to set up the furniture.  Jack was pretty much all thumbs, though, and after he actually hammered his thumb, Mac banished him to the living room.  “I’ll call you back when it’s time for you to do your designs,” he promised.

Bored, and discouraged, Jack went to check Riley and Bozer’s progress.  “Just in time,” Riley said.  She turned the laptop towards Jack.  “See what you think.”

Jack had to admit it was tasteful.  It kept with the space theme, and Riley had chosen a block font that wasn’t overly flowery, much to Jack’s relief.  “Looks good,” he said.

“Great.”  Riley punched a button.  “I just sent it to all your e-mail contacts.”

“Riley,” Jack groaned, “I barely speak to half of those people.”

“All the more reason they’ll be glad to hear from you,” Riley said.  “Don’t worry—I sent it to all Mac’s contacts, too.”  It was small comfort, but at least it was something.

Just then, Mac came into the room.  “All set.  Come take a look.”

The three of them traipsed into the nursery behind Mac.  They looked around.  “It’s plain,” Bozer said, clearly disappointed.

It was true.  At this stage, the changing table and crib were white, and did look plain in the colorful room. 

“Never fear,” Jack said.  “That’s where I come in.  I’ll have it spruced up and looking fine before you know it.”

Jack was true to his word.  He and Mac settled on a layout but refused to show the others.  Jack once again kept the details secret, even from Mac.  He worked diligently until the pieces were ready, then called everyone in.  “What do you think?” He asked anxiously.

Riley let out a low whistle.  “I’m impressed.  You’re really good at this.”  It was true.  Jack seemed to have an eye for color and patterns.  The once-boring white furniture popped with color, planets and stars swirling over it to match the walls.

“Nice job, Jack,” Mac praised.

“ _Now_ all you need is the baby,” Bozer said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I think that's enough fluff for now. ;) Let's move on to the baby, shall we?


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The baby's here, but like, most things in Mac and Jack's life, it doesn't go smoothly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! It didn't come easy. It also got a lot angstier than intended (sorry dlwtwistr!), but it all works out in the end!

Mac _loved_ having Jack pregnant.  He loved watching Jack’s belly swell.  He loved lying next to Jack at night, hands around his husband’s belly, feeling their child kick.  He felt a possessive pride at knowing _he_ was the one who had done that to Jack.  He wished everyone could see the evidence of what he had done, could see that Jack was _his_ , that _they_ were bringing a new life into the world.  They couldn’t, of course—only Mac, Jack, Riley, and Bozer seemed to be able to see Jack’s belly—but Mac imagined they could, imagined them coming up, resting their hands on Jack’s belly, and asking questions about their— _his_ —child.

Jack was much less thrilled.  He complained _all the time_ , and it just got worse as the pregnancy progressed.  He complained his feet hurt, he complained his back hurt, he complained the baby was too active, he complained about _everything_.  Riley threatened more than once to gag him if he didn’t _shut up already_.  Mac grumbled, too, but inside he preened at the further evidence of _his husband_ carrying _his_ child.  Although, it was wearing thin by the ninth month.

Jack was clearly fed up, too.  “How much longer?” he whined on a daily basis. 

“NOT SOON ENOUGH,” Mac snapped after about a month of this.

“You’re telling me,” Jack huffed.  “Help me up, will you?  I have to piss.”

Mac took a deep breath to cool his temper and held out his hand, pulling Jack up.  Mac suspected Jack was a lot more capable than he let on, and Mac would occasionally call him on it (getting a put-upon sigh and a “fine, I’ll do it myself” followed by exaggerated moans and groans that caused Mac to roll his eyes), but most of the time Mac did it without complaint.  It was just more evidence of what he had done, and he secretly loved it.

Both of them were more than ready for the baby to come, though.  Two weeks out, they began crossing off days on the calendar, leading up to a stork sticker Bozer had found marking the big day.  Riley and Bozer hovered over Jack, being almost as protective as Mac, anxiously asking if he felt anything.

“Give a guy some space, will you?” Jack said.  “I promise, when it’s time, you’ll know.  It’s not like it’s not going to be obvious.”

The team refused all assignments, even local ones, in the week leading up to the birth.  Thornton knew Mac and Jack were expecting a baby, but she thought they were adopting—“an affirmation of life,” they said.  “After Jack’s big scare, we know how precious life is.  We want to pass that gift on,” Mac said.  Jack said that sounded awfully stuffy, but people bought it.  Even Thornton.  She grumbled about the time off, but agreed on the two weeks before and a month after, for the whole team, not just Mac.

“After all,” Riley said.  “We’re not a team without Mac and Jack.”  Fortunately, Thornton seemed to agree.

Unfortunately for Jack, that meant the whole team had time on their hands, which they all spent hovering.  Jack felt like he couldn’t get away.  It seemed like Riley had even moved in, spending nights on the couch.  Finally, Jack had had enough.

“Enough already!” he roared one day.  Riley had just come with a tray of tempting goodies Bozer had made (it was one of Jack’s off days, so he wasn’t eating.  Bozer had made all the older man’s favorites, hoping to get him to eat something.  It was also how he coped with stress, so by this point, Mac and Jack had enough food for a month, and Bozer kept cooking).  “Leave me alone!”

Riley pouted.  “But Bozer made this just for you.  Don’t you want any of it?”

“No, I don’t want any of it!” Jack said.  “I told you, I’m not hungry!”  Riley opened her mouth to say something, but Jack wouldn’t let her.  “And I’m not thirsty, I don’t need any more pillows, I have every remote in the house if I want to watch a movie, and I don’t want to color.  I want to be left alone!”  Jack struggled to his feet.  Riley moved to help him, but he waved her off.  “I don’t need your help.  I’m pregnant, not crippled.  I can do this on my own.”  It took him a few tries, but he managed it, waddling off to the bedroom and slamming the door.

They backed off a bit after that.  They still wouldn’t leave him alone, but for the most part, he only had to deal with one at a time.  The other two would go out, either to get do some paperwork at Phoenix, or get some last thing they needed for the baby, or go grocery shopping (they needed to do that a lot, thanks to Bozer’s cooking spree), or just do something that didn’t involve hovering over Jack, as the Guardian put it.  Even if all three were home, they mostly managed to busy themselves elsewhere and leave Jack in relative peace.

Riley was babysitting (pardon the pun) Jack three days before his due date.  Bozer and Mac were off filming one of Bozer’s projects—Mac was supposed to be a stone troll who fell in love with a skyscraper or something like that (honestly, Jack hadn’t even tried to make sense of the plot), so they were off in the mountains about an hour out of town getting “atmospheric shots”.  Jack had been feeling off all day, but chalked it up to being nine months pregnant and ready to pop any second.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Mac had asked before he and Bozer left.

“I’m fine,” Jack replied.  “Just a little indigestion.”

“Yeah, I noticed it was bothering you.  You were up most of the night.  Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Jack said.  “Go have fun.  Riley and I will hold down the fort.”

Mac searched his husband’s face, searching for some sign that Jack was lying.  Seemingly finding none, Mac nodded.  “Call if you need anything.  I don’t know if we’ll have service, but I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

“Will do,” Jack said.  He captured Mac’s face with his hands and gave him a searing kiss.  “Go.  I love you.”

Mac returned the kiss with one of his own, briefer, but no less passionate.  “I love you, too.  Take care of him, Riley!” he shouted to the hacker.  Riley just waved at him, never looking up from her computer.

Jack was restless after Mac left.  He tried to watch a movie, but he couldn’t get comfortable, and his stomach _hurt_.  Finally, he gave up and got up.

Riley looked up from her laptop.  She’d either been checking her e-mail or hacking the Pentagon; Jack wasn’t sure which.  Maybe both.  “Where are you going?”

“Bedroom,” Jack said.

“You okay?” Riley asked, concerned.

Jack grimaced as a particularly strong burst of pain hit his stomach.  “Yeah, just stomach cramps.  I’m going to go lie down and see if that helps.”

“Okay.”  Riley went back to what she was doing.

A groan coming from the bedroom interrupted Riley sometime later.  Slightly worried that Jack’s cramps were getting worse, she went to check on him.  She found him curled up on the bed, moaning.  She rushed to his side.  “Jack, is everything okay?  Is it the baby?”

“I don’t know,” Jack panted out between cramps.  “My stomach hurts.  It’s never felt like this before.”

Riley put a hand to his forehead.  “You don’t seem to have a fever.  Still, this can’t be good.  I’m calling Mac.”

Jack just nodded, hands wrapped around his stomach.

Riley tamped down her rising panic.  If Jack was agreeing to her calling Mac, it must really be bad.  Jack might bitch and moan over a hangnail, but if he was really hurt, he’d deny it until he was blue in the face.  She quickly hit speed dial and prayed Mac would pick up.

Luckily, Mac picked up on the first ring. “What’s up, Riley?”

“It’s Jack,” she said without preamble.  “He says his stomach hurts, a lot.  If he’s admitting it, he must really be in pain.”

Alarm bells immediately went off in Mac’s head.  “Is it continuous or intermittent?”

“I’m not sure.”  She turned to Jack.  “Mac wants to know if it’s continuous or intermittent.”

Jack groaned again.  “It was just every once in a while, but now it’s practically all the time.”

“Put me on speaker,” Mac ordered Riley.  She complied.  “Jack, this is important.  Is it an ache, or is it like stabbing pain.”

Jack winced as the pain spiked again.  “The latter.”

“How often?”

“I don’t know.  Every couple of minutes?”

Mac spoke to Riley again.  “Riley, I need you to time it.  Jack, tell her when you feel the stabbing.”

“Now,” Jack ground out. 

Riley hit the stopwatch on her phone.  “What’s wrong, Mac?  Is it something he ate?”

“No, Riley,” Mac snapped impatiently, “he’s in labor.”

“Are you sure?” Riley asked.

“Given that he’s nine months pregnant, yeah, pretty sure.”

“That explains a lot,” Jack put in, curling even tighter into himself.  “Now, Riley.”

Riley checked the time.  “2 minutes, 14 seconds.”

“Okay, Riley, I need you to call his doctor right now and let him know the baby’s coming.  He’ll tell you what to do.”

Riley panicked.  “I’m not going to have to deliver it myself, am I?”

“No,” Mac said, patiently.  “They’ll do a c-section, but you’ll have to get him to the delivery center.”

Riley pulled up the memo function to take notes.  “Which hospital?”

“None of them,” Mac said.  “The Guardians have a special surgical/outpatient center.  The doctor will give you directions.”

“Okay,” Riley said.

“You’re going to be there, right, Mac?” Jack said through the pain.  “I don’t want to do this without you.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Mac promised.  “I’m going to hang up now.  Hurry, Riley.”

Riley hung up.  “What’s your doctor’s number?”

Wordlessly, Jack handed her his phone.  She scrolled through the contacts until she found the doctor’s name.  She punched in the number and waited impatiently for the doctor to pick up.  “Yes, hello,” she said when someone answered.  “My name is Riley Davis, and I’m with Jack Dalton.  He’s in labor.”

She was connected with the doctor immediately.  He wasted no time with preliminaries.  “How far along is he?” the doctor asked.

“Pretty far, I think,” Riley answered.  “His contractions are about two minutes apart.”

The doctor whistled.  “That is pretty far.  I need you to get him to the facility immediately.  How fast can you get there?”  He gave her the address.

She looked it up on her phone.  “About 20 minutes if the traffic’s good.”

“Let’s hope it is.  We’re cutting it close as it is.  I’ll have to get Mr. Dalton in for a c-section as soon as he gets here.”

“What happens if we don’t make it?  Can he deliver the baby on his own?”

“No,” the doctor said, seriously.  “He’s got nowhere to push it out.  If he doesn’t get here in time, the baby could rupture the womb, and they could both die.”

Fear gripped Riley.  They had to make it.  They just had to.  She turned her attention on Jack.  “Let’s get you out of here.  Can you walk?”

“Yeah.”  Jack swung his legs out of bed and sat up, then immediately doubled over.  “Uh, think I might need a little help here, Ri.”

Riley was trying very hard not to lose it.  “I can’t carry you, Jack!  What am I supposed to do?”

Jack took a deep breath, trying to calm his own rising panic and focus past the pain.  He could do this.  He was trained to function when badly wounded.  He had withstood torture.  A few labor pains should be a piece of cake, right?  Jack’s thoughts were derailed with another jolt of pain.  He forced his thoughts back to the problem at hand.  He waved Riley over.  “Let me lean on you.  I think I can make it if you help me.”

Riley moved into place, and Jack threw his arm over her shoulder.  She wrapped her arm around his back, and together they managed to pull him into a sitting position.  Jack had to pause and ride out another contraction.

“Aren’t you supposed to do funny breathing or something?” Riley asked.

“How should I know?” Jack snapped.  “I’ve never done this before!  And believe me, I don’t plan on doing it again.”

“Okay, okay,” Riley soothed.  “I got you.  Ready?”

Jack took another breath.  “Yeah.”

“Okay, one foot in front of the other.  That’s good—you’ve got it.”  Together, they made it out to the car.  Riley helped Jack in and awkwardly fastened the seatbelt over his protruding stomach.  “Hang on tight,” she said as she peeled furiously out of the driveway.

Riley expected some sort of comment on her driving as she broke the speed limit and most other traffic laws racing to get to the center, but Jack remained quiet.  She risked a look over at him.  Sweat had broken out on his face, which was ashen.  His eyes were closed, and he was breathing heavily.  “Stay with me, Jack,” she ordered.

“Trying,” Jack said, not opening his eyes.  His voice was weak. 

Riley drove faster.  She tore up to the entrance of the facility and was out of the car before she even had it in park.  She raced around to the passenger’s side and yanked the door open.  Jack was barely conscious.  She slapped his face.  “C’mon, Jack,” she pleaded.  “I need you to wake up.”

Jack’s head lolled towards her, and his eyes looked at her blearily, not really focused.  “Hunh?”

Riley breathed a sigh of relief.  He was still hanging in there.  “Let’s go, Jack.  Just a little further.”  She got her shoulder under the larger man, but he was practically deadweight, and her legs buckled under her burden.  She staggered to the door, praying every step of the way for the strength to just _get him inside_.

Someone, maybe the Powers That Be Jack talked about, maybe someone else, was on her side.  An orderly with a wheelchair and two nurses were waiting for them when they reached the door.  Riley sighed gratefully, rolling her shoulders, as Jack was transferred to the chair.

“Jack Dalton, I assume,” one of the nurses said.  “We’ve been waiting for you.”

“Yeah, he’s in labor.  The doctor said to hurry or. . .” she couldn’t finish the sentence.  “Will he be okay?”

The other nurse felt for Jack’s pulse.  “It’s thready.  We need to get him in a room, stat.”

Riley didn’t like the sound of that.  “But he’ll be fine, right?” she pushed.

“The doctor’s waiting, and he’s prepared to operate as soon as Mr. Dalton is prepped.”

That didn’t really answer her question, but Riley figured it was the best she was going to get.  The other nurse saw her expression.  “He’s in good hands,” she assured the hacker.

Riley just nodded, too overcome with emotion to say anything.  “Guardians are tough,” the nurse continued, voice softening, “and from what I hear, Mr. Dalton is tougher than most.  If anyone can make it, he can.”

Riley knew it didn’t really mean anything, but it was what she wanted to hear.  Jack _was_ a fighter.  Riley knew he wouldn’t give up easily.  She just had to hang onto that and hope for the best.

Riley gave the admitting nurse what information she could on Jack, then called Mac.  Bozer picked up.

“What’s up, oh, fair one?”

Riley took a deep breath and tried to keep her voice steady.  “We’re at the center.” So far, so good.

Riley heard Mac’s voice in the background, but couldn’t make it out.  “I’m putting you on speaker,” Bozer said.

Mac’s voice came through the phone.  “How is he?”

This was the hard part.  Riley didn’t want to worry Mac, but he deserved to know.  “They took him into surgery,” she said, willing her voice not to crack.

Clearly, she hadn’t done a good enough job.  Mac picked up on what she wasn’t saying.  “What’s wrong?”

Despite Riley’s best efforts, tears started to leak out of her eyes.  “He’s really far along, Mac.  The doctor said the baby could rupture the womb.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Mac said firmly.  “Everything’s going to be alright.”

Riley wanted to believe him, but she couldn’t sugarcoat it.  “I think it might have happened already.  It’s not good, Mac.  Jack was barely conscious when we got here.”  Tears were flowing freely now.

Fear gripped Mac’s heart.  Jack was going to be alright.  He had to be.  “How much longer until we get there?” he asked Bozer.

“About 20 minutes.”

“Hurry, Mac,” Riley pleaded.  “Jack might not have 20 minutes.”

 _Jack might not have 20 minutes._   The words echoed in Mac’s head.  He wished he had Jack’s power to fly through the aether.  As it was, Mac was stuck with a car.  A crummy car, at that.  He really wished he had his motorcycle or Jack’s muscle car, something with performance and good handling.  Nothing to be done about it.  Mac floored it, pressing the car to its limits.  “Bozer, find me the absolute quickest route to the center, and hang on tight!”

Powers That Be, lucky stars, or just good karma, they made it to the center in 16 minutes and 22 seconds (Mac was timing it, counting each second in his head).  Mac leaped out as soon as he pulled up to the door, trusting Bozer to park the car and meet him inside.  The blond raced to the waiting room and spotted Riley, slumped over in a chair, head in her hands.  He skidded to a stop in front of her.  “How is he?”

Riley raised her head to meet Mac’s eyes.  Her face was blotchy and tear-streaked, but the crying had stopped—for now.  She opened her mouth to answer, but a nurse appeared out of nowhere before the hacker could speak.

“Mr. MacGyver?  We’ve been waiting for you.  Follow me?”

“How’s Jack?” Mac asked, anxiously.

“He’s still in surgery,” the nurse replied.

“Can I see him?”

“I’m sorry, but not right now.”

Mac felt helpless.  “But, I have to!  If anything happens to him. . .” he couldn’t go on.

The nurse was sympathetic.  “You’ll have to wait until he’s out of surgery.”  The _if he makes it_ was unspoken.  “But, I do have someone you can see.”  She stopped in front of a clear, glass wall.  There was a row of cradles, but none of them were occupied.  However, a nurse holding a bundle in a familiar rainbow blanket was standing next to one of the cradles.

Mac’s heart leaped.  “Is that. . .?”

The nurse smiled and nodded.  “Yes, Mr. MacGyver, that’s your son.”

A boy.  Emotion choked Mac’s throat.  “Can I. . .?”

“Of course.”  She led him into the room, and the second nurse transferred the bundle to Mac’s arms.

“Congratulations, Mr. MacGyver,” she said as she handed the baby over.

Mac looked down at the bundle in his arms.  He’d never seen anything so perfect or so precious.  The infant had a shock of brown hair, just like Jack’s, but Mac could already tell the boy’s features were more angular, like his.  He wished he could see what color eyes the child had, but he knew they’d be blue right now, like all newborns.

“Do you have a name yet?” the nurse asked.

Mac started to respond, but paused.  They’d talked about a name—Connor James Dalton—Jack had wanted MacGyver for the last name, or at least hyphenated, but Mac had insisted that it should have Jack’s last name because he was carrying it and he was the Guardian—but now, everything had changed.  If Jack didn’t make it, Mac wanted a reminder of the wonderful man he’d been honored to call his husband, and he was determined to name the baby Jack if that happened.  “Not yet,” he said instead.

The nurse took in the man smiling adoringly down at the baby in his arms.  She gestured to the rocking chair by the cradle.  “Why don’t you sit down?”

Mac did as she suggested and looked up at her, giving voice to the question on his mind.  “How’s Jack?”

She hesitated, unsure what to say.

“I want the truth,” Mac said, firmly.  “I can take it.”

“Mr. Dalton is stable, but they’re still trying to stop the bleeding.  The womb ruptured.”

Mac nodded, slowly, letting her words sink in.  “So, what are his chances?”

The nurse gave a weak smile.  “Pretty good, actually.  He’s lost a lot of blood, but Guardians can take more than regular humans.  We just need to wait and see.”

Mac felt a flicker of hope, but he wasn’t going to get too excited yet.  A thought occurred to him.  “I need to tell the others.”  He started to stand up, but the nurse stopped him.

“I’ll tell them.  You should spend time with your son.”

Mac hesitated.  He was torn.  On the one hand, he wanted to be the one to tell Riley and Bozer what was up; on the other, he was reluctant to leave his son, especially if the child was all he was going to have left of Jack.  No, he wasn’t going to think like that.  Jack was going to be okay.  He _had_ to be.  Mac sat back down.

Holding his child really was therapeutic.  The child began to fuss, and Mac held out a finger.  “Hey, hey, it’s okay little guy.  I’m here.  Everything’s going to be fine.”  The child latched onto Mac’s finger and stopped crying.  He kicked his tiny legs and gurgled.  Mac couldn’t help but smile.

Mac wasn’t sure how long he sat there, holding his child and cooing to him.  At last, the soothing rocking of the chair lulled them both to sleep.  The nurse’s voice startled him awake.

“Mr. MacGyver, you can see your husband now.”

Mac was instantly alert.  “How is he?”

The nurse smiled.  “He made it through surgery with flying colors.  He’s awake and waiting for you.”

Mac was elated.  “Wonderful!”  He moved to hand the baby to the nurse, but she gently pushed him back into Mac’s arms.

“He’s waiting to see _both_ of you.”

Mac followed the nurse to Jack’s room, clutching the child protectively to his chest.  He stopped in the doorway and took in the sight before him.  Jack looked awful.  He was still and pale, and multiple IV’s were hooked up to him, one dripping blood, the other clear fluid, whether saline or meds or both Mac wasn’t sure.  The Guardian’s eyes were closed, but opened as Mac watched.  Jack caught sight of him and grinned.  “Hey.”

Mac grinned back.  “Hey, yourself.  How are you doing?”

“Sore,” Jack said, “but alive, which I’m told was pretty uncertain for a while.”

Mac swallowed back tears at the memory.  “Yeah, but you made it.  Knew you wouldn’t give up without a fight.”

An awkward silence fell between them, until Jack caught sight of the bundle in Mac’s arms.  “Is that. . .?”

“Our son, yeah.”  Mac held out the child.  “Here, why don’t you hold him?”

Jack took the small form.  “Hi, there.  I’m your daddy.  Well, your other daddy.  I think you’ve already met Mac-Daddy.”  He grinned goofily at his joke.

“He is _not_ calling me that,” Mac said, firmly.

“Speaking of names,” Jack said, “what are we calling him?  Still Connor James?”

“Connor, yeah, but. . .” Mac remembered his thoughts while Jack was still in surgery.  “Can his middle name be Jack?”

“I told you, I don’t want to name him after me,” Jack argued.

Mac tried to put his thoughts in order to best express what he felt to Jack.  “Jack, I almost lost you, and all I could think was I couldn’t stand not to have something left behind to honor you.  Please, do this for me.”

Jack was moved by Mac’s speech.  “Alright.  Connor Jack Dalton it is.”  He tickled the infant.  “What do you think, kid?”

The child—Connor, now—gurgled.  His two fathers grinned.

“Connor it is,” Mac said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter(s) will go back to unadulterated fluff, promise! I've got 1, maybe 2 more.
> 
> And yes, I refer to them as "husbands" in this chapter. There's a reason, and yes, you'll get the story. ;)


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riley and Bozer meet their new "team member".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pure fluff to make up for the last chapter. :)

Riley poked her head into the room, interrupting the moment.  “Can we come in?”

“Absolutely,” Jack said, motioning them forward.  Riley and Bozer approached and stood awkwardly at the foot of the bed, unsure what to say.

“I’m glad you’re doing well,” Riley said, finally.

“Thanks to you,” Jack said.  “If it weren’t for you, I’d probably be dead by now.”

“And if she’d gotten you in sooner, we wouldn’t be in the position in the first place,” Mac snapped.  He’d been trying not to blame Riley, but he’d been terrified, and he needed to lash out at someone.

“I didn’t know he was in labor,” Riley defended herself.

“Well, you should have.”

“Hey, the only person I’ve known in labor is my mom, and I don’t exactly remember it,” Riley shot back.

“Easy, Mac,” Jack broke in.  “It’s my fault, too.  I should have let you know sooner, I just didn’t even think it could be labor.”

Mac blew out a breath, forcing the tension out.  “I know, I’m sorry.  I was just so scared.  I could have lost you, Jack.  _Both_ of you.”

Jack reached out one hand and squeezed Mac’s.  “But you didn’t.  We’re both here, and we’re both fine.”

“Speaking of which,” Bozer said, “let’s see the little guy.”

Jack held out the tiny bundle, and Riley and Bozer both immediately melted.  “He’s so cute,” Riley cooed.

“What’s his name?” Bozer asked.

“Connor,” Jack replied.  He looked at Mac.  “Connor Jack.”

“Hey, Connor,” Bozer said, reaching out a finger.  Connor immediately latched on.  “I think he likes me.”

“Who wouldn’t like you, Boze?” Mac said, chuckling.

“Well, of course,” Bozer replied.  “The little guy obviously has good taste.”

Riley snorted.  “You’re too modest, Bozer.”  She stuck out her own finger, and Connor immediately transferred his grip to her.  The baby shifted, and something caught her eye.  “Oh, look—he has wings!”

Sure enough, tiny wings were peeking out from the blanket.  Instead of Jack’s rich brown, they were fawn, dappled with black.  “Huh, I missed those,” Mac said.

“Me, too.”  Jack stroked the appendages reverently.  “Makes sense, though.  We saw them on the ultrasound, remember?  And he is a Guardian.”

“He’s trouble, is more like it,” Riley said.  “After all, he has you two as fathers.”

“Are you saying we get in trouble?” Jack asked, mock wounded.

“If the shoe fits. . .” Riley said.

“Yeah, but if he takes after these two, he’s going to be genius at getting out of it,” Bozer said.

“I think I’d rather he stay out entirely,” Mac said.

“Yeah, me, too,” Jack said.  “Not much chance of that if he’s a Guardian, though.”

Riley tickled Connor’s chin.  “Trouble or not, you did good, guys.”

Mac and Jack smiled down at their son.  “Yeah, yeah we did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about adding another chapter with Jack going back to work, but I think that will be a separate story. Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Didn't quite make novella length. Oh, well. :)

**Author's Note:**

> So, do you want me to stick to fluff like this (and, as noted above, this fic will be fluff), or do you want a Big Arc with Good v. Evil, in which case you'll get a slightly darker take as well.


End file.
